it to me, proudly. It was far too lifelike for its own good. ‘I know the podcast is important to you but those things are endangered.’
‘It’s not real,’ he scoffed, placing it very carefully on my desk where it stared at me, mouth slightly ajar, as though about to say something profound. Like, ‘They’re grrreat!’
‘Why is it here?’ I asked, turning it around to face the wall.
‘Because Snazz’s first mask was a tiger mask,’ Ted explained, as though he were going through the fundamentals of astrophysics with a one-year-old. ‘When he first started out, he wore a tiger mask so I had a new one commissioned in his honour. We’re going to get someone to wear it around the convention to hand out flyers before we record, make sure we’ve got a packed house. I woke up in the middle of the night and it hit me, just like: tiger mask …’
‘Brilliant,’ I replied, wondering if Ted had a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. It really didn’t matter either way, but he did need to get out more. ‘I think it’s going to go well, there’s already been loads of interest. A full house is pretty much guaranteed.’
And even though I couldn’t quite believe it, it was true. I’d had more enquiries about this podcast than anything I had ever worked on before. Which was equal parts exciting and incredibly depressing.
‘And Beezer Go-Go and PsychoBang know exactly where they need to be and when?’ Ted asked, absently petting the tiger’s head.
Beezer Go-Go and the questionably named PsychoBang, the co-hosts for our first episode, were both under twenty-one and already worth more than ten million apiece, according to the internet. And to think my mum wouldn’t let me and Jo have a PlayStation because she said it would rot our brains.
‘Everything is ready to go,’ I confirmed. ‘I’ve run through it all a dozen times, we’re sorted.’
‘And you’re scheduled to record the rest of the series next week?’
‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘Happy summer holidays, Snazzlechuff.’
‘I’ll arrange something special,’ Ted said, more to himself than me. ‘We’ll get a chef in to cook. Or I’ll fly pizza over from Chicago. He loves Chicago pizza.’
‘Is that even something you can do?’ I asked. Ted gave me the same look you might give someone’s toddler who had just found out you can actually take the things you see in shops home with you.
‘I know gaming isn’t exactly your vibe.’ He added bunny ears to the term to try to make it more palatable. ‘But if this goes well, maybe we’ll, like, have a go at one of your book shows or something.’
‘Really?’ I felt my heart lift.
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ Ted nodded. ‘We listened to some of your old shows and they’re, like, not shit.’
The highest of praise.
‘You listened to The Book Report?’ I asked, glowing from head to toe nevertheless.
‘Not me,’ he spluttered. ‘One of the nerds that, like, reads. But you know. You’re good.’
I was good. It was validation I needed to hear more than I cared to admit.
‘Get this right and it’s a big foot in the door for you, Ros.’
‘And if I get it wrong, it’s my foot and the rest of me out the door?’ I joked.
‘I love your sense of humour,’ Ted laughed before looking at me with an entirely straight face. ‘But yes, that is correct, I will have to let you go.’ He carefully placed the tiger head back into the box, holding his breath until the tissue paper was replaced and the lid was safely secure. ‘Protect this with your life.’
‘To the grave,’ I swore as he showed himself out.
Once I heard his footsteps tap all the way back upstairs, I poked into the box with my toe, opening the flap and lifting up the tissue paper. It was hideous.
‘Get through this, make it a success, and the Washington situation won’t matter,’ I whispered to myself. ‘No gaming, no teenagers, no Ted.’
The tiger stared back at me.
‘Thanks for the vote of support, Tony,’ I muttered, turning back to my computer.
This week was going to go on forever.
‘OK, so where did you run off to on Saturday afternoon?’ Sumi dumped her full-to-bursting bag down beside her later that evening. I’d tempted her away from work with the promise of treats at the latest addition to London’s thrilling dessert scene, Yo, a café that specialized in and sold nothing but fro-yo. If there was one thing Sumi was powerless against, it was frozen yoghurt.
‘Well, unfortunately you missed my performance,’ I